


Freshly Baked Cakes

by lokitrashno_1



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Baking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, If i ever write a fic about these two and there's no snuggles then i've been hacked, M/M, Snake!Crowley - Freeform, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokitrashno_1/pseuds/lokitrashno_1
Summary: Crowley always has been and always will be a snake.Or: Crowley is a snake. Snakes smell with their tongues.OP is bad at titles. And summaries.





	Freshly Baked Cakes

**Author's Note:**

> Something small and soft for these two ❤️
> 
> I live and die for Snake Crowley

Aziraphale happily hummed along to Classic FM, with a mixing bowl cradled in his arms as he drifted around their picturesque little kitchen. There were many, many things in the world that made the angel happy, which was one of the reasons why he just couldn’t let the Apocalypse happen. If he had to narrow down all his favourite things into just three: one would have to be reading, one was baking and another one was being around Crowley. In that moment, he was doing all three (if reading the recipe book counted as 'reading', which Aziraphale decided it did.)

Crowley sat at the kitchen table, watching him with a lazy smile. His eyes were half lidded and he seemed to be dropping off where he sat. Snow was falling in lazy spirals outside the window and he was wrapped in as many blankets his shoulders would allow. Their kitchen was warm and homely, the combination of the oven and the small fireplace in the corner making it the warmest room in the house at that time. Besides, what was better than watching the love of his life doing something he was so passionate about?

“You know, I don’t think the village hall will be able to sell all of these.” Crowley eyed the rows and rows of baked goods sat in front of him on the table. And on the counters. There was even a stand of cupcakes on one of their chairs. “It would take a miracle for them all to go.”

Aziraphale shot him a fond smile. “Of course it will, my dear.” He poured the batter he had been whisking for the past few minutes into a lined cake tin. “It is for charity, after all. And besides, I won’t mind if we have some left over. Would you?”

“Of course not.” Crowley said. Though Crowley didn’t eat much, he could never say no to the angels baking. Aziraphale was a natural, better than any human to have ever lived. The demon had no idea how he did it; he had thought miracles were at play at first, but after watching the angel bake with his own two eyes, he could tell that it was all natural talent. 

“They’re made with love, my dear.” Aziraphale had told him once.

Aziraphale slipped the tin into the oven and set the timer. “I think that’s quite enough now.” He said, though he sounded a little forlorn. Aziraphale could bake for days on end if he wanted to, and he would have if the corner shop hadn’t run out of sugar.

He settled in the chair next to Crowley and picked up an old, battered paperback. Crowley swung his legs over the angels lap and rested his head on his shoulder, nuzzling into the warmth and breathed a content sigh against his neck.

“What you reading?” He mumbled sleepily.

“The Selfish Giant.” He replied, resting his head on top of Crowley’s.

“Again? How many times have you read that now?”

“Oh, countless times.” Aziraphale smiled. “It never gets old. None of Oscar’s books do.”

“Ngk.” Crowley said, closing his eyes.

“I could read it to you, if you’d like?”

“Go for it.” Crowley said idly. “I don’t mind.”

In fact, he did mind. He _loved_ it when his angel read to him; Aziraphale’s reading voice was the softest, most comforting thing in the universe, like a smooth rock warmed by the midday sun.

He was drifting off when the shrill ring of the timer cut through the air. He cracked open his eyes and glowered at it, willing it into silence.

“That’ll be the cake.” Aziraphale said, slipping his bookmark between the pages. He stood, sitting Crowley up straight as he did so. Crowley moaned in protest at the loss of warmth.

Pulling on the oven gloves, Aziraphale opened the oven door, letting out a cascade of steam. “Ohhhhh…” Aziraphale beamed as he brought the cake over to the table and laid it on the cooling rack. “Doesn’t that smell amazing?”

Crowley sniffed at the air, but couldn’t smell much. He frowned. His sense of smell had never been very good, not when he used it in the way a human would. Besides, the cold had been making his nose run as of late. When Adam fixed the world, he must have gotten rid of the effects of global warming because it was _freezing._

Still, Crowley wanted to smell his angels baking. Resorting to his serpentine senses; he leaned forward and darted his tongue toward the cake, lightly touching the base of the warm sponge. It smelt delicious and Crowley hummed with the pleasure the scent caused his senses.

“Darling, did you just _lick_ the cake?”

Crowley looked up, innocently. Aziraphale looked vaguely aghast, looking between his demon and the sponge that sat cooling in front of them.

“I was smelling it.” Crowley said defensively. “I can’t smell properly without… you know.” 

Aziraphale sighed, exasperated. “Well I can’t bring that one to the bake sale now!” He said. “It’s unhygienic!”

“Ohh don’t be like that.” Crowley said. “I don’t have any germs. I’m a demon! And even if I did, you could just miracle them away.”

“But _still_ , it wouldn’t feel right selling cake that’s previously been licked!”

Crowley rolled his eyes at Aziraphale’s pedantic nature. “Angel, it’s no big deal. You’ve already baked two other Victoria sponges for the bake sale! They won’t miss this one, not with the four dozen Bakewell tarts, cupcakes and three tier chocolate fudge cake to name a few.” 

“What are you implying?” Aziraphale asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We keep this one. You said there would surely be leftovers, right? We’ll just have the leftovers early.” Crowley sat up, reaching for the buttercream. “it’s not like the only one contributing. And look, it’s miraculously cooled.”

Aziraphale turned his gaze to the cake, which had stopped steaming. He sighed.

“Are you trying to tempt me?” He asked, a slight hint of a smile in his voice. 

“Depends. Is it working?”

Aziraphale let a smile break out across his face as he sat down next to his demon again. “Alright.” He said, taking a knife and dipping it in the buttercream. “This is ours then.”

Crowley grinned, dipping his finger into the buttercream and licking it off with a forked tongue.

“Wonderful.” He smirked. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave feedback ❤️
> 
> Also I've never read an Oscar Wilde book in my life.


End file.
